Dare to Breathe

by M. Homer

  I ignore her question, suddenly feeling really somber. “Sally, can I ask you something?”

  “Sure honey; what you wanna know?”

  “If you knew someone had gone through something bad, something possibly that can’t be fixed without help, where would you tell that person to go to for help?”

  I am not sure why I choose her to ask such a personal question but something about Sally just makes me trust her.

  “What? Do you mean like a shrink?”

  I try and deflect her attention by appearing indifferent. “Well, yeah…I guess so.”

  She looks at me intently now. “You know when I first found out I preferred women to men, I had to go through a great deal of support. Let’s just say my family weren’t exactly over the moon to discover a lesbian in the family. Beth introduced me to a lady in town who was awesome. Her name is Doctor Sandy and I think she is still practicing. Would your ‘friend’ like her number?”

  I just nod. I have no words as we both know my vague attempt at being blasé is bogus. I appreciate that she doesn’t call me on it and I breathe a sigh of relief when she squeezes me briefly on my shoulder and walks away to serve another customer.

  Just as I am walking out the door later that evening, Sally hands me a piece of paper with Doctor Sandy’s name and number. “I looked her up and I am pleased to say she is still in business.”

  “Thanks Sally,” I reply giving her a brief grateful smile as I walk out.

  Chapter Eighteen

  “So, Samantha, what can I do for you?” Doctor Sandy asks me as I come in and sit down in her office a few days later. She is a tall lady with her auburn hair cut short in a bob that shapes her face. She is wearing a beige business suit but I notice her shiny stilettos peeking out from under the trouser leg. She has a friendly expression which makes her formal appearance a little less threatening.

  I take my time answering her by slowly pulling off my scarf, folding it neatly into three layers and placing it on my lap. I remove my jacket and lay it beside me. As I do this, I painfully gather my thoughts. She sits watching me calmly.

  I finally clear my throat. “Um, well actually, where do you want me to start?”

  “How about we start with why you chose to come and see me today?” She leans forward, note pad at the ready.

  “Okay…well I have been having nightmares, and well, I think they are ruining my chance at being normal.”

  “What would you consider to be normal?” she asks me.

  What sort of question is that? “I um…I am not sure,” I reply, shrugging.

  She shifts in her chair and makes some notes. I stretch my neck to try get a glimpse of what she is writing and start to feel a bit like an ostrich.

  “Okay, well that’s something worth thinking about, don’t you think?” she says ambiguously, moving her note pad away. “Do you want to talk about the nightmares instead?”

  I wind my neck in, feeling a bit sheepish.

  No, I want to tell her, but instead I say, “Okay.” I shift around nervously and place my sweating hands in my lap. “Well, um…I dream about the life I had before I moved in with my mom and dad.” She looks at me with confusion so I continue. “I mean my adopted mom and dad.”

  “I see,” she says and continues to scribble in her book.

  “I dream about my brothers,” I continue. She stops and looks at me in silence. “I have…I mean I had younger brothers. They were like two and three years younger than me and all I can remember about them was that they trusted me and used to suck their thumbs all the time.” My throat hitches and I take a deep breath. “Anyway, I remember us hiding. A lot,” I emphasize.

  “Do you remember why you were hiding?” she asks me gently.

  I can’t look at her or speak for a second. My hands feel wet and I rub them along my thighs, my jeans absorbing the moisture. “There was this man,” is all I can say.

  “What man? Really think about who he is and why he is plaguing your dreams.”

  “I don’t know,” I reply looking at her with tears threatening to fall, “but I know he wanted to hurt us badly.”

  “Samantha,” she asks, “why do you dream about hiding with your brothers away from a man?”

  “Because I think it really happened but I can’t remember for sure,” I whisper, frustrated with myself.

  Chapter Nineteen

  “Oh yeah, it’s the holidays!” Carrie comes bounding down the stairs, her bag bumping her side. She stops when she sees me and gives me a big smile. “I am going to miss your moody face,” she tells me, squeezing my shoulder as she walks past.

  “Yeah, me too,” I say to her moodily, confirming her statement. I still feel upset that they are all leaving without me, but I know there is a reason and I trust that one day Nathan will tell me. I also know that if I don’t go home for the holidays, my parents will kill me.

  “So, when are you off?” she asks me, sitting down at the kitchen counter.

  “I fly out tomorrow,” I tell her.

  “Whoa, you get the whole house to yourself for one whole night,” she says, wiggling her eyebrows, just as Nathan walks in.

  He looks at me with something like sadness in his eyes. “Better not do anything we wouldn’t do,” he says.

  “Well, that certainly leaves me wide open with options,” I say. His eyes crinkle in amusement.

  Carrie shakes her head at us and walks out to find Mandy and Ben.

  Nathan comes right next to me, all traces of the former humor gone. “You going to be okay?” he asks.

  I laugh him off but I realize I will really miss him. What will happen if I have a nightmare?

  “No…maybe…who knows?” I reply honestly surprising myself.

  “If you really want me to stay, I will,” he says, gently lifting my face so I look into his beautiful brown eyes.

  “Thanks but…I need to go home. I need to find out about…well about, my ‘issues’,” I say trying to sound brave.

  “Seriously?” He looks genuinely pleased for the first time. “That is awesome!” He lets my face go and the heat where his fingertips touched leaves my skin feeling cold. “You are the bravest person I know,” he whispers. “I hope you’ll get the answers that you need.”

  Before I can stop him, he leans in and kisses my cheek. “Merry Christmas beautiful,” he says, placing a small package in my hand and walking out. I look down in shock and see a beautifully wrapped Christmas gift. I try and memorize his words, and the way his lips touched my cheek. I close my eyes to take a mental photograph, then take a deep breath. What I really want to do is run out of the house and kiss him firmly on his lips, but my insecurities ground me. Besides, the only night he showed me genuine affection was the night he was blind drunk. Otherwise all he has ever been to me is a big brother. Damn, I certainly don’t want him as a brother. His words and gestures make me question how he sees me. I wish I could bring him back and ask him outright.

  The rest of the gang turn up a few seconds later and after lots of good-byes and even a few hugs, they are gone.

  I walk around the house feeling lonely, bored and cold. I glance upstairs and then before I can change my mind, I bound up to Nathan’s room. I push the door open and head straight in. I take off my shoes, snuggle into his bed that smells just like him, and fall fast asleep.

  Beep! Beep! Beep! His alarm wakes me up at 6:00 a.m. Bastard didn’t turn it off before he left! I don’t feel quite as nostalgic as the noise beats through my brain.

  I silence it with a slap and roll over to face the wall. I can’t go back to sleep. His bed, his smell, his presence is just too much for me. I stretch and realize with a happy heart that I have slept through the night! Yes! I reluctantly climb out of bed and take a closer look around his room. He has his small bed, a desk and a bookshelf in it. Next to his bed he has a little bedside table and I notice a picture on it. I pick it up and, smiling, see a younger Ben, Mandy, Carrie and Nathan. They must be about fifteen years old and I notice another
girl in the picture, her arms casually draped around Mandy and Nathan. I wonder who she is and where she is now when the rest of these guys are still so close. I replace the photo but it tips over. I see writing on the back of the frame.

  “In loving memory of Kate.”

  This is Kate? The girl Carrie spoke about to Nathan the morning I was so hung-over?

  I look closely at the pretty girl with the long fair hair spilling over her shoulders. She has a big smile that highlights her bright jade eyes and long tanned limbs. I wonder what happened to her but I snap out of it, return the frame, make the bed and reluctantly leave the room.

  Chapter Twenty

  I have to take a cab from the airport to my old house as Dad has decided to stop driving. The traffic makes him go crazy and between his ailing eyesight and arthritis we all agree it is safer for me and for him if I take public transport. I get out the cab, grab my bags and pay the taxi driver. I look over at the house I have known for the last twelve years. It is every child’s dream home with a large front garden, white picket fence and even a tree house my dad built many years ago.

  I look at the tree house fondly and recall many a night when I first arrived here, sleeping up there where I thought it was safer. That tree house symbolizes hope for a better future and I desperately want to go and climb it now.

  I shake my head and instead head into my home.

  “Mom…Dad! I’m home!” I yell, throwing open the door they have never locked for over twenty years, despite my protests.

  I hear voices coming from the kitchen and quickly go to find them. The house is fully decorated with tinsel, Christmas baubles and other glaringly tacky decorations my mom won’t throw out because I loved them so much as a kid.

  Mom is drying her hands and walking out to greet me already. “Honey!” she shouts, coming to give me a huge, bear hug. This is the one person I have always hugged freely. The only person who has been able to touch me without making me freak out. I throw my arms around her and hug her back. We stand like that for a minute before I hear a gentle cough behind me. I look around and see my dad. He looks frailer than I remember, with tired eyes, but he still holds a great big smile for me.

  “How’s my birdie?” he asks me gently. He knows not to crowd me but I am so happy to see him I let go of my mom and hug him tightly. He stands frozen for a minute, shocked by my embrace but then relaxes, returning the hug. When I open my eyes, I see my mom quietly wiping away tears.

  I step back and look at them both. “So, how have you been?” I ask.

  I head to the table and grab a piece of Edam my mom has grated for the cheese sauce. I take a close look at them as I eat the cheese. My mom’s gray hair has gotten slightly longer and I think I may take her out to the hairdresser’s while I am here as a treat. My dad is looking older and thinner than I remember. He has on his favorite tan pants which I can see are a little looser on him than usual.

  My mom starts talking about her world here and all they have been doing in their community. Both of them have always believed in giving back to the people around them and I know that they are well loved here. I shift my focus and my attention onto her. We talk and talk and talk. It is as though I have never left. All those warm, safe memories I have ever had here return and surround me in a warm embrace and I relax into the only world I have ever truly loved or known.

  Christmas Day comes too quickly and I know I have to head back soon. We exchange presents and I am delighted by my new iPad from them both. I open the parcel from Nathan in my room away from the family; my feelings for him are too raw to allow them to see this gift. I also would never be able to explain my feelings about this man to them as I hardly understand them myself. I unwrap it and am blown away by feelings I never knew possible as I look at the delicate dream catcher he has bought for me. It has a beautiful topaz stone in the center of it, just the color of my own blue eyes. I wonder if he did that on purpose…? No one could have bought me a more perfect gift. I look at the tag attached which simply says, ‘to look after you while I am away’. I hang it up over the window and then head back to my family who are busy in the kitchen.

  I feel sad about leaving the two people who mean the most to me in the world but I am excited to go back and see my friends. Well truthfully, I have missed Nathan the most but whatever, I haven’t heard from one of them since they left and it’s not as if they don’t have my cell phone number! We sit at the table and eat mounds of turkey, mashed potatoes and cherry pie. No one asks me to help cook the food (luckily). I do help with the clearing up afterwards though. As I stand in the kitchen with my mom, I decide this is the perfect time to start asking questions. The sink looks out onto the back yard and I see it has started snowing again. The world always looks cleaner and fresher underneath a blanket of snow and the sight of this new clean world makes me braver.

  “Mom, you remember when I asked about a shrink?” I ask.

  She stops in her tracks and slowly looks over at me.

  “Well, just so you know, I found one,” I tell her while I continue to dry the plates.

  “Oh,” she says and turns back to washing the dishes. I know she is trying to appear casual but the tension in her body is a dead giveaway.

  “Yeah, she is pretty good, Mom. We’ve been talking about my nightmares a little,” I continue.

  “Uh hum,” is all she replies.

  “Anyway, we started talking about Alex and Fred, you know my little brothers, and Mom, I can’t remember what happened to them. I really need some answers here,” I add a little desperately.

  She stops what she is doing and pulls me towards the kitchen table and onto a stool. She sits down next to me and holds my hands.

  “Okay, Sam. Now you know we didn’t get a whole heap of background information on the rest of your family when you arrived, but if you feel ready, I’ll tell you what we know,” she says.

  I wiggle in the chair while I decide if I am ready or not. Her worried eyes scare me and I know the news can only be bad. I close my eyes for a moment to get some clarity.

  “I think I need to know,” I say. “Doctor Sandy says I need to face my past in order to let it go. If I don’t start doing that, I don’t think I will ever be able to move forward.”

  I open my eyes and look at her lined face. She may be older now, but to me, she is still the most beautiful woman I have ever seen. I remember the first time I saw her. She had come out the house to meet me, the sun shining behind her light hair framing her face and for a second I was sure she was an angel.

  She leans back and sighs for a moment and then comes forward and holds my hands again. “When you got here, you were so skinny. You were also so skittish. I thought you were never going to leave that tree house.” She smiles at me fondly. “The truth is, you were always far stronger than anyone could possibly believe. You started coming down to see what we were doing in the garden. You would hover behind the tree, ready to dart up if we did something sudden or made a loud move but still you came to investigate. You were so curious. We carried on digging and planting, talking to each other, pretending we hadn’t noticed you so you would get to trust us more. That’s when Dad stared calling you ‘Birdie.’ Anyway, one day, you finally came right out, grabbed a rake and started working right alongside us, not saying one word. We both knew from that day on, you were a survivor.”

  I have tears in my eyes and I see them reflected in my mom’s own eyes too.

  “When they told us about you, they told us you had a family; a mom, dad and younger brothers.”

  My breath catches as I listen closely to her words.

  “Honey, you also had an uncle who lived at your house. They said it was an accident. We were told he fell asleep while trying to boil a pan of water on the gas stove but whatever the reason, the whole house burnt down that day killing everyone except your uncle and you.”

  “How?…Why were we the only ones to survive?” I choke out at her almost smelling the fumes of the fire engulfing me and being brought back
to a vague memory of burning.

  “Your room was closest to the kitchen and I don’t know, somehow he grabbed you and got you out.”

  “Why don’t I remember any of this except for when I’m asleep?”

  “Honey, you were only about six years old. The boys were sleeping in the same room as your birth parents…They…they all died together.”

  Seeing me crying, she pulls me closer and holds me tight.

  “I am so sorry, Sam,” is all she says.

  I cry for the family I never knew. I cry for my siblings who never had the chance to grow up. I cry for my life I must have lost that day. I cry until all my tears are exhausted. Then I stand up, try and give my mom a weak smile, and go lie on my bed, falling into a dead sleep.

  I have a nightmare that night, of course I do. Dad and Mom come into the room and sing me back to sleep, like they have done so many nights in the past. I think of that hawk, flying high above me, looking at the earth from a distance. When I calm down, they close the door and back away. I think about what I have learnt. I have so many more questions. Why do I remember hiding in a cupboard with the boys and being scared?

  I wonder if my mom has told me all she knows as I have other horrible thoughts floating in my mind, thoughts I know I will have to confront in the morning.

  When I come downstairs the next morning, I have one final question I need to ask her. The question is consuming me, making me feel sick to my toes. When I walk into the kitchen she is sitting at the table with my dad.

  “Mom,” I say to her with my stomach tensing, “what happened to my uncle?”

  I find a seat and look over to her. I need to have these questions answered; I’m done hiding in the dark pretending the first six years of my life never happened.

  She looks over at my dad as if asking him to answer this question. He looks frowns with concern at the sight of me. I know I look pale, tired and unwell but I need to know.

  “When you were six, you were found walking in the streets at midnight,” he says warily. “No one really knows what happened as you wouldn’t tell anyone. You weren’t much of a speaker when you were little. Anyway, a police cruiser picked you up only once you started walking on the highway. They eventually figured out who you were and took you back home. When they got to the trailer park where you lived with him, they discovered purely by accident, that your uncle was selling drugs, a lot of them. Short story is that he went to jail and you were brought to us.”